


One Shots

by badwolfbay303



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-20 17:16:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11925528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfbay303/pseuds/badwolfbay303
Summary: Basically a series of one shots I create based off of writing prompt generators. All stories are part of the same "world".Female Mahriel/ AlistairFemale Hawke/ AndersFemale Trevelyan/ Cullen





	1. Don't Lie to Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of an AU where even though Trevelyan is the Inquisitor, the other (potential) inquisitors are a part of the inquisition.

f!Trevelyan & f!Adaar: don’t lie to me

I pushed the door open with all my strength. “What the hell, Adaar?” I shouted. Cullen and Leliana looked up, startled, “Love, what’s-” Cullen began.  
“Don’t,” I held my hand up to silence him, “Adaar. What the shit did you do?” I demanded.  
Karay barely even looked up from the maps on the War Table, “I protected our interests with the Qun.”  
“At the expense of the Chargers!” I screamed, moving quickly toward her. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Leliana slip out of the room. Cullen immediately stepped in front of me, his arms holding me back from her. He tried to talk sense into me, but I wouldn’t let myself be calmed.   
I struggled against his grip, “Let… me… go!” I escaped Cullen’s arms and charged toward Adaar again, reaching for the staff on my back. She stood up calmly, and let me approach, not even beginning to reach for her greatsword in its sheath. Cullen grabbed my arm and wrestled the staff from my hand. I turned around and faced him.  
“Krem is literally on death’s door, and this nug humping son of a bitch had the power to save him, and she didn’t! Skinner is missing! Grim is dead! Rocky…” My voice faltered, thinking about what happened to the dwarf, “You’ve seen what happened to Rocky.”   
I turned back to Adaar, my right hand reaching down to my thigh and the dagger I keep concealed there. Before I could grasp it, Cullen jerked my hand away.  
“Callista! Stop for a second and calm down!” he shouted as I fought him to get either of my weapons back. Karay just watched everything with an almost analytical coldness. I stopped fighting for my staff and dagger, and faced her.   
“Were you ever going to let me decide whether or not I wanted this alliance?” I asked, suddenly calm. “Would you have listened to my decision, had I been there? Are you even here for Thedas? Or are you here for the Qun?”  
A look of mild surprise crossed her steely face. “I am here because I must be,” she said simply.  
The door bangs open again, but I barely notice Leliana’s men entering. “Are you… A spy… For the Qun?” I asked through gritted teeth.  
She opened her mouth to reply, but I cut her off, “Don’t. Lie. To. Me.” Karay didn’t answer, but that was enough.   
I raised my voice slightly to make my point, “Our men are not expendable, you heartless monster.” She didn’t even look down or away in some form of shame, or remorse. If she had, maybe I could have forgiven her. I saw nothing in her frigid gaze.  
“Get out.”  
Adaar began to protest now. I moved to her, and with a sudden burst of strength, I started to push her out of my war room.  
“Get out!” I screamed over her arguments. I pushed her through the doors, “If I ever see your sorry bitch ass here again, I will personally send you to meet the Maker.”  
I turned back to the war table, and slid to the ground, the tears I had been pushing back the entire time falling freely. Cullen ordered the guards to escort Adaar out of Skyhold before kneeling in front of me. I pulled myself to him and buried my face in his shirt, my tears turning to sobs, as I lost all control. He put his arms around me and held me tightly, murmuring words of comfort.   
The anchor flashes, sending waves of pain through my arm into my body. “I never wanted this. Oh Maker, I never wanted any of this,” I sobbed into Cullen’s shirt.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Told from Cullen's perspective, he feels insecure about his budding relationship with Inquisitor Callista Trevelyan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my mind, this takes place after you complete the Crestwood missions. Thank you for leaving Kudos on the last chapter! Feel free to leave comments about what type of one shots you'd like to see.

The Inquisitor barges in through the door of Skyhold’s main hall. She drops her staff and dagger almost immediately as she begins to thunder through the hall.   
“Welcome back, Calli-” I’m cut off abruptly as she races past, up the stairs to the tower.  
“Yeah, okay!” she shouts over her shoulder.  
I sigh and shake my head before following her, trying to minimize whatever damage will ensue.   
“Dorian!” she shouts, running up the winding staircase.  
“Amatus!” Dorian’s voice is heard from above, followed by a loud crash. He probably threw whatever book he was holding.  
I follow Callista, watching her long braid bounce up and down as she runs and shouts for Dorian. A thought pushes its way into my head, and its presence drops my heart into my stomach. What if they’re together? I shake my head to force that ghastly idea away.  
“Dorian!” She pushes the door open.  
“Amatus!” He opens his arms to her.   
It makes sense.   
“Dorian!” She runs across the room to him.  
“Amatus!” He catches her in his arms, spinning her around and holding tight.  
It can’t be.  
“Dorian.” She presses her head into his shoulder and sighs.  
“Amatus.” He sets her down, but doesn’t let her out of his embrace.   
Each action is a dagger in me as I watch the woman I love with another man. I sigh and turn to leave them to their lovers’ bliss, intending to drown my sorrows in some sort of dwarven brew.  
“Oh, hey, Commander.” I turn and see Iron Bull walk toward me from… Dorian’s room?  
“Hey, Bull.” I see Dorian and Calli- The Inquisitor have moved to sitting practically on top of each other, speaking in hushed tones. Another dagger.   
Bull ducks to avoid hitting his head on the low ceiling of the rotunda, “You know they’re not actually… Uh, together, right?” he says.  
My head snaps to him. “What? They’re not seeing each other?”  
Bull shakes his head, “Nope. In fact, Dorian doesn’t even go that way, if you know what I mean.”  
Doesn’t go that way… It takes my mind a minute to comprehend. He doesn’t like girls. He doesn’t like girls! I want to scream it from the top of the battlements.   
I chuckle. “Thank the Maker,” I watch them for a moment, “Do you think she could ever love me that deeply?”  
He leans against the wall, a look of discomfort on his face, “I don’t know, Commander. I don’t really do the whole ‘emotions thing’. But, uh, the way Dorian explains it makes some sense to me. He says they’re soulmates, that they’re meant to be in each other’s life. Not romantically, but they have some sort of affection on a deep level,” he pauses for a moment. “You and Boss? That’s a whole other story.” He smirks, as if he knows anything about my relationship with Callista.  
I watch the two of them, as I turn to leave. I catch little snippets of their conversation, “Beautiful… So strong… Shy… Awkward… Lip scar…” Wait, lip scar? I touch the scar on my lip from the battle of Kirkwall. Are they talking about me?   
I walk down a few stairs, then I turn back and try to listen some more. I can only catch more individual words. “… In charge… Lion… Commander Noodle Hair…”   
Holy Maker, they are. Maker’s breath, they’re legitimately talking about me. I don’t know how to process this information.   
I briskly walk down the stairs, through Solas’ room, and onto the battlements. They’re talking about me, which means one of them has reason to. The most likely reasons would be worry, or… infatuation. My mind immediately jumps to the conclusion that Callista has feelings for me.   
But… Dorian goes “my way”... That means it could be him. Shit. What if he does harbor some sort of feeling for me? I… I don’t go his way.  
For some reason, my mind recalls the memory of the Iron Bull coming out of Dorian’s room. Coming out of Dorian’s room. He and Dorian… They’re… Dorian doesn’t like me! That means it must be Callista.   
Thank the Maker. I smile as I walk along the battlements to my office, thinking about Callista. Oh Maker, she does care for me. It’s hours before I stop smiling and blushing.


	3. Perfect For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair and The Warden's first night together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to use legitimate dialogue from the game for a lot of this. I did take some artistic liberties, however. Mad props if you understand the musical reference.

Our party stumbles into camp, half dead. Wynne and Leliana rush up to us, and silently take Zevran’s unconscious body from Alistair’s arms. They whisk him away to work their healing magic, both literally and metaphorically. Morrigan tightens her grip on my neck, and I grasp her waist more firmly to help her limp over to her tent. I’m worried out of my mind about Zev, but I need to turn my focus elsewhere. Morrigan groans, and I try to lower her to her cot, but I can’t do it safely due to her leg. I try once more, and she yells out. I look to her, and tears are streaming down her face. I look around desperately for help, and my eye lands on Alistair. He looks somewhat lost, and he thinks nobody is paying attention to him, so he quite resembles a lost mabari pup.  
“Alistair!” I shout, and he immediately runs straight over, which only increases his puppyness. I only have to look him in the eye and whisper “Please,” before he deftly picks up Morrigan and lays her down on her cot.  
I attempt to roll up the stretchy black material of Morrigan’s trousers to try and get a look at her wound. Before I can, however, she thrashes about in pain. I look at Alistair, and see he is already taking off his armour and moving behind the cot to restrain Morrigan for me. I send my silent thanks in his direction and go to work.  
I murmur words of encouragement to Morrigan while I pour various healing potions over her wound. I consider my second medical experience a success, for she only lost consciousness three times.  
After I finish, Alistair stands up and stretches his muscles. Morrigan wakes long enough to mutter “ ‘Tis good you are here for your companions. You have my thanks,” before falling asleep, hopefully for the night this time.  
“You know, I really think she cares about us in her own weird way,” Alistair says, offering his hand to me.  
“A strange concept isn’t it? Morrigan caring about someone other than herself. Maybe she isn’t as bad as you’ve always thought,” I reply teasingly, taking his hand as we head towards my tent.  
He sighs melodramatically. “Maybe you’re right… Maker, I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?”  
“Nope.” I smile, “I have to change, but I’ll see you later?”  
“Sure, well, you’re always going to see me. Whether or not we talk, that’s another question,” he stretches again, flexing his toned muscles.  
“Alistair? More like ‘Alistair’ at you all day,” I joke and snap my fingers, pointing at him for extended comedic effect.  
“You are so perfect for me, Elizabeth Cousland. Come here before I change my mind,” he says, laughing and pulling me closer.  
He places one hand on my waist and the other on my face, forcing our bodies together. I grasp his arms as our foreheads meet for a moment before our lips collide, working in perfect harmony. I pull away first, and walk into my tent.  
“I’ll talk to you later, Alistair.”  
He giggles and walks away. 

“Okay, but what does a Grey Warden say about the Blight?” Alistair asks, still laughing from the joke Zevran told him.  
Zev thought for a moment, then shrugged, but that seemed to cause him pain, so he replied, “What does a Grey Warden say about the Blight?”  
“Oh, taint much.”  
Alistair and I roared with laughter, and Zevran laughed as much as he could. Wynne looked over disapprovingly and made her way over to us. Oh crap, we all thought simultaneously.  
“Alright, our Zevran needs to rest if he is return to his normal self. I’m sorry. Unfortunately, Wardens, I must ask you to leave now,” she says.  
I nod and pull Alistair away before he can say anything that might make Wynne even more disgruntled, while Zev makes faces in background. We wait until we’re a safe distance away before collapsing into a fit of giggles.  
“Did you see Zev’s face behind Wynne?” Alistair says between bursts of laughter.  
I nod in response and keep laughing. We regain some calm, but all it takes is looking at each other before we fall to the ground laughing again. When we finally calm down for good, Alistair puts his arms around me and we lie contentedly, looking at the stars. I point to the constellations, pointing them out and explaining what they are to him. I look at Alistair. He’s not even looking at the skies, he’s been watching me the whole time.  
He takes a deep breath and pulls me up, so we’re standing and facing each other. He sighs again before speaking.  
“Alright, I guess I really don’t know how to ask you this,” he begins, seriously.  
Immediately, it seems as though all my blood rushes to my head, yet I feel light headed. I have this feeling that this isn’t going to be good.  
“Is it important?” I ask nervously.  
“Errr… No, I suppose not,” he became very fascinated by something on the ground before continuing on. “I just thought… we’re together at the camp. Maybe we could… talk?”  
Oh no. “Sure. What’s on your mind?” I answer. I look at his face a little more closely, “Are you sweating, Alistair?”  
He reaches up and wipes his forehead, “No? I-I mean, yes. I mean… I’m a little nervous, sure. Not that this is anything bad or frightening or… well, yes,” he finishes clumsily, still not looking at me.  
Maker, I love him so much. He truly is the only person in the world that means so much to me. After what happened with Gilmore, I thought I didn’t deserve anyone again. Despite that, here he is, the man of my dreams. And now I’m almost positive he’s going to end things with me.  
“Anyways, what did you want to ask me?” I say, my heart sinking lower with dread each moment he fumbles for words.  
“Oh, how do I say this?” he pauses, trying to figure how best to form his next words, “You’d think it’d be easier, but everytime I’m around you, I feel as if my head’s about to explode,” he gestures to his head with both hands, trying to ease the tension with comic relief. It doesn’t work. “I-I can’t think straight,” He finishes after another pause.  
“Oh. So you’re breaking up with me because I give you a headache?”  
“No! Not at all! I don’t mean it like that! I mean… alright, let me start over,” he pauses and rubs the back of his neck. He stops and grabs both of my hands and my heart skips a beat. “Here’s the thing: being near you makes me crazy, but I can’t imagine being without you. Not ever.”  
I open my mouth to say something, but Alistair interrupts me before any sound comes out.  
“I don’t know how to say this another way. I want to spend the night with you. Here, in the camp. Maybe this is too fast, I don’t know, but… I know what I feel,” he finishes his monologue, looking in my eyes, searching for something.  
My first impulse is to respond immediately by pressing my mouth onto his and rip his shirt off, but something gives me pause.  
“This is a little sudden, Alistair. I mean, just in Denerim a few weeks ago, you told me you wanted to wait, and that’s fine, we can wait as long-” he cuts me off again.  
“I wanted to wait for the perfect time, the perfect place… But when will it all be perfect? If things were, we wouldn’t have met. We sort of… stumbled into each other, and despite this being the least perfect time, I still found myself falling for you in between all the fighting and everything else. I really don’t want to wait anymore. I’ve… I’ve never done this before. You know that. I want it to be with you, Eliza… While we have the chance… In case…” he trails off, not wanting to say what we both have been dreading.  
“Please don’t talk like that. We’re going to have so much time after all this is over to do each other, and anything we want. Please don’t talk like we’ll be dead before we wake up,” I beg.  
“Will there be time later? You don't know that. I don’t know that,” he pauses for only a moment, “What happened to Zev got me thinking. He was dead. Deader than those darkspawn. What if that happened to you? Or me? And Wynne couldn’t wake us up? I’d like to be able to say that I threw caution to the wind at least once, before that happens.”  
He looks at me with those big hazel puppydog eyes of his, and I can see only love. So much love, it makes me want to cry. I don’t deserve him. “Maker, what did I do to deserve him?” I shout in my heart. A short strand of blond hair falls onto his forehead. I release one of his hands and brush it back into place. My hand lingers on his face. He turns his head and kisses my palm, then leans his head toward mine.  
“Are you sure?” I lean in some.  
“I think so.” Another lean. “I hope so.” There’s no more space between us.  
His arms wrap around me and pull me even closer. My hands go to his head, to pull his face down to mine. Our foreheads are pressed together as we take in the embrace of the other. My fingers run through his hair, as if they have a mind of their own. I can smell the warmth of his breath. I can smell the aftershave he uses. I can see the small follicles of stubble growing back on his cheek already. My hands move to his back. I can feel his muscles, contracting and relaxing with each breath. Our mouths have yet to connect, but somehow this is more intimate than we’ve ever been.  
“I think this is perfect. Perfect for us. Our world is dying and crumbling, but we’ll be the one thing in this world that won’t hurt,” I whisper.  
“Perfect for you. I will be perfect for you. By the Maker, I swear that I will be everything you need, now and always,” he murmurs in my ear.  
Finally, our lips meet, and like a switch has flipped, everything speeds up. We’re grasping and pulling at each other, trying to eliminate distance that isn’t there. It’s as if we’re hungry for each other. Somehow, we end up on the ground again. Alistair’s on tops of me, pressing into me. Then, I’m on top of him, covering him in kisses as he tries to remove my tunic. He’s back on top, and I’m watching the natural rhythm of his arms as they pull his shirt up and over his head, discarding it elsewhere. His mouth is back on mine, and suddenly there’s nothing between my skin and his.  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
We lay on our sides, Alistair behind me, his arms wrapped around me. I turned, facing him, and put my arms around him too. He kisses my forehead, his lips linger on my face. I sigh, taking in his smell. He smells like grass and armour and sweat and something distinctly masculine that drives me insane. Silently, I thank the Maker for sending me my knight in shining armour.  
“You know, according to all the sisters at the monastery, I should have been stuck by lightning by now,” he says, pulling his fingers up my hip.  
“Is that so?” I chuckle quietly.  
“Lightning first, then the end of civilization as we know it. I’m a bad, bad man.” He smiles against my head.  
He pulls me closer and I curl my head against his bare chest. The warmth from his body protects me from the cold night air. He sighs and sits up a little, propping himself up on his elbow.  
“You do realize the rest of our little party here is going to talk? They do that,” he says.  
“First smart comment and I feed them to darkspawn,” I mutter, sad that he pulled away from me.  
“See?” he smiles a big goofy grin at me, “This is why I love you.”  
He thought nothing of it but that phrase, “I love you” scares me and thrills me more than anything in the world.  
He looks around, “Now, where is my shirt?”  
I sit up and look around for Alistair’s shirt. Found it. I lean across him and he strokes my back lightly.  
“Ah, thank you, darling,” he says when I grab his shirt, reaching for it.  
I smile at him and pull it over my own body, instead of handing it to him. He grabs my hand and pulls me back down to him as I laugh. I end up on top of him, straddling his hips. I lean down over him, so my hair hangs down around his face. He inhales and pushes my hair away so he can look at my face. I can see pure joy in his face as he pulls mine toward his. At the last second, I roll off and lie next to him, using his chest as a pillow. He laughs and wraps his arms around me.  
“So… What now? Where do we go from here?” he asks. I can hear in his voice that he is almost afraid of my answer, no matter what it is.  
“We have a darkspawn horde to defeat,” I state, beginning my thought.  
“You’re so practical…You make me proud. Alright, I get the hint. We have a lot to do, right? And we should do it,” Alistair jokes, relieved and hurt at my response.  
“And…” I struggle for the words to make it better.  
“And…?” he teases.  
“And we stay together. No matter what,” I finish.  
“Right. I can handle that. I hope.” He holds me tighter.  
I snuggle closer to him and breath him in again. I’ll never get tired of his smell, as long as I live. I’ll never tire of him. I reach my arm up and run my fingers through his hair again, pulling his head to mine for another kiss.  
“We should head back to the camp now, Alistair,” I say against his mouth.  
“I don’t want to leave,” he sighs, “But… You’re right. We need to head back before they find us. Can you imagine what they’d say then?”  
“Again, first smart comment and I feed them to darkspawn.” I sit up and grab my tunic from the ground off to my right.  
He stands up, then offers me his hand to help me stand. I take it and he pulls me up. I tuck the front hem of his shirt into my leggings and bundle my tunic up under my arm. He ties the drawstring of his pants, then looks at me and grins. I love his adorable face so much. I hold my hand out to him, and he takes it, and we begin our walk back to our tents.  
“Do you think maybe I could sleep with you tonight?” I ask.  
“Well, I’d say you’ve already done that,” he smirked.  
I roll my eyes and smile, “Oh, forget it. Maker, you are impossible.”  
He squeezes my hand, “Why? Is there something wrong with your tent?”  
“Not exactly,” I begin, swinging around in front of him, “It just doesn’t have you in it.” I smile and put my arms around his neck.  
He leans down, and presses his forehead to mine, “Well, you see, that’s the same problem I have with my tent.”  
I move my lips against his, “I think that I can fix that, yeah?”  
We kiss, slowly and tenderly. I wish that this moment in time would stay forever. No worrying about darkspawn, or treacherous teryns, or Warden treaties. It’s just us. Just me and Alistair, and that’s truly all I need in this world.


	4. Comfort in Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian and Callista deal with the aftermath of Bull's betrayal and death. Cullen makes a short appearance for some fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This follows the AU where Adaar chose the Qunari alliance over the Chargers. Bull betrayed the Inquisition as part of the Ben- Hassrath, due to Adaar's choice. Of course, she wasn't around to deal with that, because Callista threw her out. Thank you for the Kudos, and please leave comments about the kind of one shots you'd like to see!

“Change of plans. Nothing personal, bas.”  
That was what he said before he attacked me. His use of the name he gave me made his betrayal all the worse. His eye kept looking around after he breathed his last, as if his head didn’t understand that he was fully dead.  
I don’t know what was worse, his eye, or the way Dorian screamed when Bull was cut down. I don’t even know who struck the killing blow. It could have been any one of my party. Sweet Maker.  
A knock sounds at my door, and I look up, “Come in.”  
Dorian opened the door and entered my room. Dear Andraste, how can I talk to him? He shut the door and sat next to me on my bed.  
We sat in silence, neither one of knowing what to say.  
“I am so sorry,” I finally say. I look over at him, and the look on his face kills me. It absolutely kills me. The raw grief and hurt is so evident on his usually smirking face.  
“I just want to say… I had no idea,” he finally whispered. “Maybe if I had had some idea, I could have changed his mind. Maybe… Maybe he wouldn’t have had to die.”  
Andraste, I can’t do this. “It’s not your fault.” Great job, Cal.  
I rest my hand on his leg and rub my thumb in circles, hoping to comfort him. I could tell it didn’t work.  
Suddenly, he jumps up. “It wasn’t my fault! It wasn’t any of our faults!” I can see a glimmer of the old Dorian in his exclamations, and that makes my guilt all the worse.  
He began pacing the room, “The fault lies with Adaar,” he started.  
“Dorian,” I cut him off, “maybe it wasn’t anyone’s fault. He was sent here to do a job, and he did it. If you want to blame anyone, blame the Qun.” I moved on my bed so that my back rests against the headboard.  
“No! Can’t you see?” Dorian crossed the room and to sit in front of me, “Adaar was the one sent on the mission where the Chargers were overcome. She chose to save the dreadnought, thereby cementing Bull’s alliance with the Qun. Had she chosen the Chargers, He would have become Tal- Vashoth,” he finished, looking at me.  
“Dorian, that doesn’t change anything,” I whispered after a minute. “Maybe things would have been different, had the dreadnought gone down, but we’ll never know. Bull still betrayed us. He still died,” I hated the words, even as they came out of my mouth, but I couldn’t bear to hear him finish his complete thought. I knew, as sure as I knew that two and two makes four, that Dorian was going to suggest using Alexius’ time magic to go back and save the Chargers.  
He crawled next to me on my bed, “I just thought… Maybe…”  
“I know,” he laid his head on my lap and I stroked his hair, “I know.”  
Dorian finally let go of all the rage and grief that was building up. He screamed and sobbed, and clutched my leg and blankets. I just stroked his hair and let him be upset. Tears fell down my face and landed in his hair, but I barely noticed.  
He slowly calmed down, and was just left weeping. The old Dorian, the pre- Bull Dorian would never have let himself show his negative emotions like this. Silently, I thanked the Maker for my dear friend, for his heart, and I pray that eventually, he will love again.

Cullen knocked on the door to his and Callista’s room. He had seen Dorian go in a few hours ago, and wanted to make sure everything was alright. He also wanted to go to sleep, so Dorian would have to leave the room Cullen shared with Callista. No answer came, so he gently eased open the door. Inside, he saw his love leaning against her headboard and Dorian laying with his head on her lap. Both were fast asleep, and the sight made his heart heavy. He had read the reports of what happened to the Iron Bull and what he did. To see the two strongest people he knew reduced to such pure grief, with obvious tear stains on their faces, hurt his heart more than he could explain, though he later tried in a letter to his sister. Even in sleep, their faces bore the signs of deep grief.  
Cullen walked over to the closet and searched for the spare blankets and pillows Callista kept there. He found them and arranged them on the thick carpet, making a bed for poor Dorian. He then lifted him up and placed him on the blankets. Dorian was surprisingly light, probably because he often forgot to eat while he was studying some ancient tome or text. He barely stirred as Cullen covered him with the blankets and made him comfortable.  
Cullen then walked back to Callista who had begun to wake after he had taken Dorian away. He pulled off his boots and removed his shirt as she sat up.  
“Hey,” he said smiling, putting his hand to her cheek gently.  
“Hey, yourself,” she said, turning to kiss his hand.  
“I put Dorian on the floor with the spare blankets. I couldn’t send him away,” he said, laying down on his side of the bed.  
“Thank you,” she said, unbuttoning her shirt, “I feel terrible for him. I feel responsible for this, you know?” she grabbed his discarded shirt and slid it over her head. Maker, he loved when she wore his shirts to bed. It was such a small declaration of her love, but it was so _her_ that he loved it. “I feel like I should have noticed something, anything, that would have clued me in to Bull’s deception.”  
“You couldn’t have done anything differently,” he said, reaching for her back and rubbing it softly.  
“I know,” she sighed and removed her trousers. “I know.”  
She laid down on him, settling into the space between his arm and torso. Cullen held her closely and she hugged him. She fell back asleep with her head resting on his chest, but Cullen remained awake. He studied her face as she slept, and eventually, he fell asleep too.


End file.
